


Gorgeous

by lockheed_london



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:09:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockheed_london/pseuds/lockheed_london
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Martin's having sex it takes him a little while to relax enough to get into it, and to come. But once he's done it for the first time, it doesn't take much to set him off again and again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gorgeous

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for this prompt at the Cabin Pressure prompt meme on Dreamwidth: http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/4207.html?thread=6470511#cmt6470511

Douglas would admit that the idea was his, but the inspiration was entirely due to Martin. They had been together for several months now and sleeping together for a few of those; not as many as might be assumed since Martin, predictably, had been hesitant about starting a relationship with a work colleague, even if that line had been rather blurred for a while now. But Douglas had held his tongue and exercised patience, and had found the rewards to be well worth it. Martin was a charmingly affectionate lover and almost heartbreakingly easy to please, responding to any and all caresses like a cat and leaning into them readily for as long as Douglas would spend on them.

It had taken Martin a while to relax enough to go to bed with him. Or rather, to go to bed with him and enjoy it, since their early attempts had mostly involved Martin sliding down Douglas’ body to suck him off and then lapsing into taut silence when Douglas reciprocated. Douglas gave it his best shot, but eventually Martin’s hands settled gently on his face and eased him away. Douglas glanced at Martin’s cock, still hard and unsatisfied, before looking up at him and raising an eyebrow.

‘I’m…’ Martin looked painfully awkward, and Douglas slid up his body and pulled him close.

‘What do you want?’ he murmured, threading his fingers through Martin’s hair. ‘You can tell me; it’s alright.’

‘Nothing,’ Martin said, hugging Douglas and rubbing his cheek along Douglas’ collarbone. ‘You’re very good – you’re wonderful – but I just… don’t. Sometimes.’

Douglas tugged Martin over onto his side.

‘Does it ever happen – or not happen – when you’re by yourself?’

‘No. Everything works, um. Fine.’

‘Then try doing what you would usually do.’

Douglas guided Martin’s hand down to curl around himself, and Martin started to stroke. He persevered for a while but eventually, although his eyes closed and his breathing sped up, nothing happened and he slowed to a halt.

‘Sorry,’ he said, opening his eyes and looking shamefaced and almost excruciatingly self-conscious. ‘I can’t… I’m not going to–’

‘You don’t need to apologise,’ Douglas said instantly, kissing him. ‘Never for that. Sometimes it doesn’t happen, especially if you’re nervous or tense. It’s not a problem.’

Martin looked so pathetically grateful at that that Douglas had to kiss him again, stroking his hands over the long muscles of Martin’s lean back.

‘If you turn over I’ll give you a massage,’ he said, conscious of Martin’s cock poking wet and insistent against his stomach but determined not to make Martin even more self-conscious about it than he clearly already was.

Martin rolled over readily onto his front and Douglas reached over to fish the bottle of massage oil out of the drawer. Martin’s muscles were tight at first, with what Douglas presumed was frustrated arousal and awkwardness, but Douglas kept his touch soothing until Martin was boneless against the bed and half-asleep with drowsy pleasure.

The next time Martin got closer, red-faced and gasping until the sensation seemed to get to be too much for him and he pushed Douglas’ hands away, shuddering.

The third time was the charm, apparently: Martin had gripped Douglas’ wrists while Douglas stroked him, alternately pushing his hands away and then dragging them back again, until Douglas realised what the issue was. Martin apparently got almost _painfully_ sensitive when he was about to come, to the point that even the loose clasp of Douglas’ fingers was too much. But he couldn’t get himself off without some sort of stimulation.

So Douglas stroked Martin until he began to shudder and twist in his arms and then let go, bringing his hands up to drag his thumbs over his nipples while pressing rough kisses to Martin’s cheeks and mouth. For a long moment Martin seemed to hover right on the edge before, with a hitching sob, his cock twitched sharply and he came, thighs clamped tightly around the leg Douglas had shoved between his.

Afterwards it took a long time for Martin to soften but Douglas didn’t pay too much attention to it, being too focussed on Martin burrowing into his arms and sighing ‘Thank you… oh God, thank you…’

It took a few more incidences before Douglas finally caught on, and he dragged the backs of his fingers up Martin’s cock – wet with come – and asked ‘Are you able to go again?’

Martin nodded, and Douglas groaned as he kissed him. Martin was able to take slightly more stimulation this time around, and allowed Douglas to grip him loosely around the base while his cock swelled and he whimpered and spilled over Douglas’ fingers.

Douglas paused when Martin was done, unsure whether that was it, but Martin only dragged in a couple of deep breaths before reaching down and whispering, ‘Gently… be gentle…’

Martin twined their fingers together and slowly moved their joined fist along his length, until he dragged them away and gave a little cry as he shuddered and came _again_.

He rolled onto his back when he was done, thighs splaying wide and chest heaving.

‘That,’ Douglas said, rubbing calming circles onto Martin’s too-hot, shivery stomach, ‘was bloody _amazing_.’

Martin didn’t say anything, too busy catching his breath, but the corners of his mouth turned up. It broadened into a proper grin when Douglas wrapped a possessive hand over the crest of his hipbone, and he turned on his side to snuggle – there was really no other word for it – into Douglas’ chest.

***

Douglas has been revelling in this new facet of Martin. Sex is always fun, but making Martin come over and over until he’s wrung-out and trembling leaves Douglas at once satisfied and oddly protective of him.

It’s taken a certain amount of time and convincing to get Martin on board with Douglas’ current plan, but at last Martin has begun to trust that while Douglas might tease him he won’t outright humiliate him. Hence the small video camera that Douglas is setting up on the dressing-table while Martin drifts around the room, fiddling with this and that in a subtle display of nerves.

‘There,’ Douglas says, when everything’s ready. He catches Martin on one of his passes across the room, and pulls him in for a kiss. ‘All set.’

‘Okay,’ Martin says. ‘Just… you can’t see my face, can you? I don’t want to have to look at myself.’

The whole point of this was to show Martin how desirable Douglas finds him, but Douglas only says ‘I’m sure I’ve set it up so that you can’t. But why don’t you sit on the bed and I’ll check?’

Martin perches on the edge of the bed, still primly covered from neck to ankle in T-shirt and pyjama bottoms, and Douglas adjusts the camera angle to ensure that nothing is visible above the stretched-out neck of Martin’s sleep T-shirt.

‘There,’ he says.

‘Right.’ Martin licks his lips, fiddling with the hem of his T-shirt. He looks nervous, and when Douglas holds out a hand he gets up and crosses the room, out of camera shot.

Douglas kisses him, his hands heavy and reassuring on Martin’s hips, and Martin relaxes a little under his touch. Douglas takes them away for a moment to tug off his own T-shirt and then replaces them, pushing them up under Martin’s T-shirt slightly.

‘Let’s get this off you, shall we?’ he says quietly, and Martin nods, grabbing the hem and lifting it up and off. Douglas kisses him again once Martin has dropped his T-shirt onto the floor, splaying his fingers over Martin’s ribcage. Martin’s ribs are less visible than they were when they started this; the first time they’d been snogging on the sofa and Douglas had slid his hand up Martin’s shirt then he’d been vaguely shocked, and for several moments had been honestly torn as to whether he wanted to fuck Martin or feed him.

Next to go are Martin’s pyjamas bottoms; they drop to the floor and reveal that Martin is more than half-hard already. For all his awkwardness and nerves the idea clearly turns him on, and Douglas reaches down to cup his hand over the warm mass of flesh and squeeze gently, helping him along.

‘Remember,’ Douglas says, in between kisses to Martin’s mouth, his cheeks, the side of his throat, ‘we can stop anytime you want. Just say the word.’

Martin nods breathlessly, and Douglas turns away. He quickly gets rid of his own underwear and squeezes a dollop of lubricant into the palm of one hand, working it between both hands until they’re slick. He sits on the edge of the bed and scoots backwards slightly, opening enough space for Martin to come and sit between his legs.

Martin does so, and Douglas wraps an arm around his tense mid-section and encourages him to lean back against him. Martin’s hands go behind Douglas’ thighs, bracing himself on the bed, but he trusts some of his weight to Douglas and Douglas shifts position slightly to provide a solid resting place.

‘Relax.’ He nuzzles the injunction into Martin’s shoulder as his slick hands reach for Martin’s cock. ‘Close your eyes, and concentrate on what I’m doing to you.’

Martin shuts his eyes, his lashes dark against his cheek, and shivers slightly at the touch of Douglas’ hands on his cock. Douglas starts out slowly, wrapping his hand loosely around the base and giving a few long, slow pulls up towards the head, drawing Martin’s entire length through his fingers and using his thumb to tease the foreskin up over the head and let it slip back. After a few minutes of this Martin gives a tiny moan, and his back arches a little. Douglas smiles where his lips are pressed to Martin’s shoulder, and brings his hands up to touch Martin’s nipples, rubbing wet fingers over them and teasing him with a light scratch of nails.

‘Oh,’ Martin says, the barest touch of voice in his exhalation. ‘Oh.’

Douglas sucks lazy kisses into the muscle of Martin’s shoulder and along the side of his throat, and works his fingers back and forth over Martin’s nipples until they’re tight and his thighs have started to splay a little wider on the bed, his hips pushing forward into a touch that’s no longer there.

‘Please,’ Martin says softly. He pushes his chest into Douglas’ touch even as his hips shift restlessly.

‘Is this what you want?’ Douglas murmurs, sliding a hand down over Martin’s ribs – carefully not to tickle – and reaching between his thighs.

Martin cock throbs when Douglas touches it and Martin gulps a breath, nodding wordlessly, and Douglas starts to stroke again. Martin is getting close. He’s started leaking – a steady dribble of pre-come seeping from the head that Douglas slides his fingertips through to work along the shaft, shushing him when Martin jerks at the direct contact.

‘Gently,’ Martin gasps, still so quiet. ‘Be gentle.’

‘Of course,’ Douglas says, lips right up against his ear as he works the pre-come down along Martin’s shaft. He pulls on it a few more times, until Martin starts to twist against him, before letting go and reaching further down to cup Martin’s balls. They’re already drawn tight against his body and Douglas rolls them a little in his hand, making Marti’s heels press again the floor and his hips lift.

‘Almost there, aren’t you?’ Douglas murmurs; Martin’s hair whispers against his shoulder as he nods, and Douglas takes him in hand again. He flattens his hand over Martin’s nipple and focuses on working the other on his cock until Martin suddenly arches against him. From what Douglas can see of his profile his features are drawn into a pained look, and Douglas strokes him until Martin’s body jerks, as though he can’t decide whether to push into Douglas’ touch or flinch away. Douglas has grown adept at reading Martin’s tells and so, although it almost kills him, this is the moment he takes his hand off Martin’s cock and focuses on working his nipples.

‘Open your eyes,’ Douglas says to Martin, whose face is screwed up. ‘Look down at yourself.’

Martin obeys and Douglas rests his chin on Martin’s shoulder to look down at his cock as he keeps talking, thumbs still working over Martin’s nipples.

‘You’re so ready to come,’ Douglas says. ‘Look at you. You’re so hard, so wet. Do you need me to touch you again?’

Martin shakes his head no. He’s trembling against Douglas, his orgasm building, and when Douglas gives a little twist to his nipples he gasps loudly as his cock jerks and pulses. It’s only three abbreviated spurts, however, and Douglas knows that he’s not done.

‘Good,’ he says, smoothing his hands down Martin’s sides while Martin pants. ‘That’s good. But I bet you can go again.’

He reaches for Martin’s cock and curls his fingers around it, and Martin shivers at his touch but doesn’t tell him to stop. He leans more heavily against Douglas now, and when Douglas twists his palm over the head he gives a little moan and reaches for Douglas’ wrist.

‘Alright,’ Douglas says, before Martin can catch hold of him. ‘Alright, easy now, just relax.’

He takes his hands away and gives Martin a few moments to calm down, while he nuzzles kisses into the crook of his shoulder, and when he brings his hands back it’s only for the barest touch. Martin’s cock is slick with come, and Douglas draws tiny circles on it with the pads of his fingers, until Martin starts to shudder. Douglas wouldn’t have thought it would be enough but, astoundingly, Martin’s back arches again. Douglas moves up towards the head, tracing maddening little circles just underneath it, and Martin twists against him and pants ‘Gently… oh God, gently…’

By way of reply Douglas only takes his hands away and trails a sticky-wet thumb along the upper side of Martin’s cock, and Martin gasps as his second orgasm hits him. It’s not so definite this time: just a long trail of come that slides out of him and dribbles down his cock to run over his balls, but Martin twists his face to press blindly into the side of Douglas’ throat and whimpers. Martin is usually so quiet – all wordless gasps and bitten lips – that this tiny noise is as telling as a scream, and Douglas takes a moment to wrap both arms around Martin in a fierce hug and growl, ‘I’m so hard for you right now.’

‘I… I…’ Martin pants for breath, his face scarlet. He’s been straining towards his peak for long enough that he’s sweating freely; Douglas’ cock slides against the small of his back and it’s equal parts perspiration and Douglas’ own pre-come.

‘God, you’re gorgeous like this,’ Douglas murmurs. He draws lazy circles on Martin’s inner thighs, taking a few moments away from his cock, still flushed and stiff with blood. ‘Can I touch you again?’

Martin doesn’t reply for a few moments; Douglas twists his head and sees that his fingers are curled tightly in the sheets, and so he strokes Martin’s thighs and hips and waits patiently, pressing absent kisses to the point of Martin’s bony shoulder and watching Martin’s chest heave as he pants. At last Martin nods, shakily, and Douglas hums in approval as he reaches for Martin’s cock again.

This time he’s as gentle as he knows how to be, since even the loose clasp of his fingers has Martin’s knees twitching toward each other, as though he’s torn between pushing into it and closing his legs to pull away.

‘Easy,’ Douglas breathes against his throat. ‘Easy now. Let me do this for you.’

He holds Martin’s cock loosely at the base, sliding his hand up and down it in tiny, barely-there strokes. Martin is already quivering against him, and so Douglas focuses instead on talking to him. He tells Martin how much he loves him, and how much he loves doing this for him. He loosens the gentle grip he has on Martin’s thigh when Martin starts to squirm, so that he can sling his arm around Martin’s waist, gentle enough that Martin can push him away if he wants but firm enough to ground Martin.

‘I should have brought a towel to put under you,’ Douglas says, letting go of Martin’s cock to cup his balls and give them a little tug. ‘Look at the wet spot you’ve made.’

It’s impressive, and what’s more impressive is that Martin is leaking _again_ – Douglas slides a single fingertip over the head of Martin’s cock and then lifts it to his mouth to suck clean. He puts his hand back down and Martin’s breath stutters, his thigh muscles starting to tense again.

‘Come on,’ Douglas coaxes softly. ‘Once more.’

Martin moans softly – a tiny, choked-off noise – and pushes up into Douglas’ hands until he stiffens and starts to gasp ‘Oh… oh… oh…’

Douglas makes to withdraw his hand but Martin groans heavily: ‘No, don’t. Stay there, just… stay…’

Douglas tightens his grip around the base of Martin’s cock, giving the smallest twist as it swells slightly in his grip and Martin starts to come again. He spurts over Douglas’s already-wet fingers, soaking the sheets again; this time he’s utterly silent but Douglas can hear the frantic clicks of his throat working, can hear him struggling for breath through his pleasure.

Martin goes utterly limp afterwards, sagging his full weight back against Douglas who has to quickly let go of Martin’s cock and fling an arm out to brace himself on the mattress. Martin’s head lolls back on Douglas’ shoulder and Douglas hugs him close with his one free arm and praises him: ‘That’s it, Christ, that was amazing; you have no idea how much I love doing that for you.’

He kisses Martin’s hair and temple, burning hot under his lips. Douglas’ own arousal is almost uncomfortable at this point and he slides a hand between them to grip his own cock and give it a few strokes, inhaling sharply with relief. Martin, obviously feeling what he’s doing, sits up and twists round.

‘Let me,’ he slurs, his hands clumsy in the aftermath of his orgasm as they slide across Douglas’ stomach and thighs. ‘Here, let me, I want to.’

Martin pushes Douglas’ hand away to replace it with his own, and Douglas bites his lip. He watches Martin’s face as Martin looks down at his hand stroking Douglas; Martin’s cheeks are still brightly flushed, his mouth red where he’s been biting at it, and his expression is very serious. His eyes flick up to Douglas’ before he looks back down, his lips part almost as though he’s about to speak but he stays silent and focuses instead on Douglas.

‘What is it?’ Douglas says, and catches his breath as Martin’s thumb slides wetly up and over the head of his cock. ‘Go on, say it.’

Martin glances at him from under his eyelashes, looking surprisingly coy for someone who’s just had three orgasms in Douglas’ arms.

‘You could fuck me, if you wanted to,’ he says quietly.

Douglas groans. ‘Really?’

It’s not a new thing but usually Douglas fucks Martin before he’s already come, not when he’s already heavy-lidded and pliant, and he reaches around and down to cup Martin’s arse.

‘Yes,’ Martin says, almost shyly. ‘Or I can just do this, if you want.’

For a moment Douglas is torn. Martin’s touch feels amazing, and will certainly be enough to get him off, but he also loves the sensation of being sunk deep inside him.

‘I want to fuck you,’ Douglas says hoarsely, and Martin draws his full lower lip between his teeth.

‘Alright,’ he says. ‘Just let me…’

With a bit of scrambling and rearranging they’re in the middle of the bed – Martin on his hands and knees and Douglas kneeling behind him. He squeezes out a generous amount of lubricant from the tube they use and rubs it over Martin’s hole, lingering when Martin groans and arches his spine. Martin opens easily around his fingers, and Douglas spends a few aching minutes watching the push and slide of his fingers into Martin’s body, before withdrawing to slick himself up, gripping Martin’s hip with one hand, and lining himself up with the other. For a few moments he teases Martin: rubbing the head of his cock back and forth over his hole, purely because Martin is so gorgeous when he cants his hips back and whines impatiently, but he can’t hold back for long and eventually he lets the head catch on Martin’s hole and it sinks in.

‘Oh,’ Martin gasps wetly, and Douglas pauses.

‘Too much?’ he asks, and Martin shakes his head.

‘No, it’s fine, it’s good,’ he says. He leans back a little and Douglas sinks farther into him. ‘It’s really, really good. _God._ ’

Douglas brings his other hand forward to grip Martin’s hips and thrusts gently while Martin whimpers and goes down into his elbows.

‘Martin?’ Douglas asks, slowing, and Martin’s calves shift and press alongside his.

‘Don’t stop,’ Martin says, his voice hitching and slightly muffled where his forehead rests on his clasped hands. ‘It’s good, don’t stop.’

Douglas doesn’t. He fucks Martin gently but steadily, squeezing his eyes shut at the tight, hot slide around his cock, and Martin shifts and makes all sorts of breathless, encouraging noises, and after a while he takes his weight on one arm and reaches beneath himself, between his own legs.

‘Good God, again?’ Douglas pants.

‘No… yes… I don’t know,’ Martin groans. Douglas looks at the steadiness of his arm and realises that he’s not stroking himself, just gripping tightly. ‘I… oh, that feels good, _fuck_.’

Douglas leans forward, planting a hand on the mattress by Martin and reaches down. He finds Martin’s hand, wrapped tightly around himself, and interlacing their fingers he feels that yes, Martin is mostly hard again. The change in angle makes Martin arch his back and whimper and Douglas rears back, sitting back on his heels and gripping Martin’s hips to draw him with him.

‘Come here,’ Douglas growls, tugging until Martin is sitting in his lap, thighs splayed either side of Douglas’ and Douglas’ chest flush against his back. Douglas reaches back around, takes Martin’s cock in his fist, and starts moving again.

Martin goes utterly to _pieces_ at this. There isn’t room for Douglas to move very much, but the little jolts push Martin’s cock through Douglas’ fingers and Martin’s head falls back onto Douglas’ shoulder as he moans once, loud, before catching his lip in his teeth.

‘Don’t do that,’ Douglas says, giving a warning nip to Martin’s shoulder. ‘Let me hear you.’

And so Martin stops stifling himself, and Douglas’ movements force a litany of gasps and groans and ‘ _Oh_ ’ from him. Martin’s hands clutch at Douglas’ forearms, his fingers curling to dig in a little, and Douglas shifts his knees slightly wider for balance and re-doubles his efforts. He keeps his movement steady and rhythmic, until Martin gives a little sob and tenses on top of him.

‘Are you close?’ Douglas asks, growling the words against the sweat-damp hair of Martin’s temple.

‘Ye-yes,’ stutters Martin, and he grabs at Douglas’ wrist. ‘I’m… I’m nearly… oh God, I’m going to come.’

He’s not exaggerating; the next instant his fingernails are digging perfect little crescents into the forearm that Douglas has wrapped around his chest as he tightens around Douglas’ cock and comes, with a little cry that sounds as though it’s been wrenched out of him. His cock throbs in Douglas’ grip but only produces a tiny dribble, and Douglas buries his face in the side of Martin’s exposed throat.

He’s almost there himself, thanks to all the time spent cradling Martin while he came, and now he tightens his grip around Martin’s chest and holds onto one hip and pushes forward into Martin’s body, fluttery with aftershocks, until he comes.

It’s exquisitely good; Martin fumbles his fingers between Douglas’ and Douglas laces them together and hangs on until he stops shuddering.

He stays in Martin as long as he can, but eventually he softens and starts to slip out. Martin squirms when he pulls out, overstimulated now, and Douglas rubs his stomach in wordless apology. He coaxes Martin down onto the bed, dragging him into his arms and smoothing his hands down Martin’s spine until Martin is more than half-asleep under his caresses.

Eventually, Douglas knows, he’ll have to ease himself out from under Martin. He needs to shut off the video camera, and fetch a damp cloth to clean them up. He’s already impatient to see how the footage came out, and can’t wait to sit down with Martin and watch it. He’d bet that Martin will flush scarlet and squirm throughout, but also that it’ll turn him on like mad.

But, as Martin sighs out a breath of utter contentment against Douglas’ shoulder, Douglas strokes his hair and is willing to concede that it can wait.

**End**


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